


Word Of The Day

by CynicalGamer



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, first mavin fic whoo?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalGamer/pseuds/CynicalGamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wants to make a move, but every day that passes makes him insecure. His emotions switch too rapidly.<br/>He just wants Gavin.<br/>(Fanfiction inspired by and words provided by the emotionary!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno how to Mavin :'D

Hostalgia.  
n. Rage that derives from never being able to get things back in your past that you feel nostalgic about; anger about the irretrievability of the past, esp. when it was ruined for you by someone else.

Michael glares at the definition on his word of the day calendar, mouth twisting up in disinterest. Why did Ray ever get him this piece of shit? These words never seemed real, and honestly, he's pretty tired of trying to remember to yank off a stupid piece of paper EVERY FUCKING DAY.  
Whatever. Time to move on.  
Michael stretches, still sitting on the side of his bed, not quite ready to get up. The sun is peeking through the small window in his room, shining directly on one spot of the mattress.

Actually getting up, the ginger reaches for his glasses and slinks towards the kitchen. Some days he wore contacts, but for one reason or another, he doesn't feel like it today. Too much effort, really.  
The coffee pots gets turned on within seconds of Michael entering the room, and soon the smell fills the space. He sighs thoughtlessly, ruffling his curls. It's another day of work, of course. Another day feeling like a total ass about his current situation.

Said situation was and still is, mind you, ruining whatever shred of fucking insanity he has left.  
Said problem is the reason he doesn't feel like hanging out with his co-workers anymore.  
Said problem is british and the most loveable shit in the world.

Fucking Gavin Free, ladies and gentleman! The only thing to casually destroy every bit of Michael and still smile, oblivious to any and every issue. Excuse Michael while he pukes up every last bit of pain still lingering in the bleeding mess that is his heart.  
He is tired. Verrryyyy tired.

The days are all the same now, or rather, they've been the same for awhile. There was a time where he could just be around Gavin and enjoy tormenting the little dick to pieces, but now? Now he can't be in the same room without wanting to just sleep.  
Being in love is probably the most emotionally exhausting thing in the world. All those cheesy rom-coms about love? They're nothing like real life.  
Real life, as it would seem, chews you up, spits you out, runs you over, tears you apart, flattens you out, and says walk it off. You're in love shithead, now fuck off!

Michael doesn't like real life. He doesn't enjoy feeling the way he does...except for every now and then.  
There are, of course, brief moments where he looks to Gavin and the world seems to implode. His stupidly perfect eyes, his annoyingly cute hair, and every fantastically, but still disturbingly, perfect smile. Seriously? Who has that perfect of a smile? Shit is crazy.  
It doesn't matter though!  
None of it fucking matters!

Michael clenches his teeth, trying to relax enough to go get his coffee. There's no doubt he could use some.  
With a slight huff, he grabs a cup and pours the caffeinated drink. The first few sips burn, but he enjoys it, savoring the warmth. After a few short moments, however, the drink is done and his thoughts once again haunt him. He feels empty.

The rest of his morning goes fairly smoothly (Except for his fucking shirt ripped, thank you shitty company in China!).  
Michael shrugs on a thin jacket, leaving his apartment rather quickly and heading down the stairs. It's a slightly brisk morning in Austin, Texas, but not that bad. He quietly wonders if Gavin will wear a scarf. He's really unbearably cute in a scarf. Michael bites his lower lip, trying to ignore that pesky thought.

Sometimes his mind wanders.  
Pain in the ass, really.

The Achievement Hunter walks to the office, eyes steady and unwavering as he enters the building and takes a hard right, lightly bumping the wall in the process. Okay, so, brain still not totally there. Doesn't matter, he'll wake up fully soon enough.  
Geoff looks up from his desk and smiles at Michael, the younger man smiling back in response. "Hey, Michael. Nice to see you here earlier." The ginger shrugs as he sits down at his desk. If Geoff's here, then Gavin's around somewhere.

Okay, jeez, brain shut up if you don't mind. Work is the main focus, fucking thank you.

"Am I really that early?" He scratches his head, turning on his equipment.  
"Kinda. Other than me and Gav, you're first in." Geoff explains, yawning shortly after. Michael nods his head, not sure what words to say. His attention is shifted, ignoring the world outside his computer and editing program. There's a Rage Quit video that needs some fixing up before anything else.

It's not been five minutes when Gavin enters the room, rather loudly at that.  
"Morning, Michael!" The accent always makes his name sound odd, something the fandom appreciates, and something Michael simply loves. He looks up from his work, not bothering to turn fully. "Hey, Gav." He mutters, receiving a frown in response. Fuck, he hates when Gavin's upset, but...! There's no way he can just stay uncharacteristically peppy for an entire week. Everyone knows he's not a morning person, but for some reason, Gavin takes it to heart every time!

The blonde forces another smile, or maybe it isn't forced, but...  
Anyway, he sits at his own desk, swiveling in his chair as he waits for his junk to turn on. Michael continues to glance at Gavin, watching as he picks lazily at the hole. He chips away the wood around it, really just making a mess and damaging his property further.  
Something about his child-like fascination and habitual tendencies are charming. It reminds Michael that he's still young, there's time to spare, time to idly enjoy the world around you.

Gavin glances up to his friend, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You alright there, lad?" Michael snaps out of it, nodding quickly.  
"Uh, yeah, just...fucking tired." He explains, facing forward again. The blonde seems to buy it and returns to his own work.  
Well that was close. New goal, don't be so obvious.

Their recordings that day suffered the same as they have for awhile.  
Michael doesn't know how to express his feelings in any other way than to react angrily. Therefore, anytime Gavin tried to team-up or get close, he would meet with a terrible fate and a string of almost nonsensical curses. The fans reacted poorly, as did the office. After work, Ray had stopped Michael and asked what was up with him, but didn't get a straight answer.

Michael now lays in bed, facedown. There's no way to hide the shame, but dulling it might be just as good.  
He wants things back to the way they were! He wants him and Gavin teaming up, making stupid dick jokes, killing eachother for fun, ending the day laughing like idiots! He wants it back, but Gavin fucking ruined it by being...  
So flawed and yet so perfect.


	2. Ambiviculty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so terrible sorry

Ambiviculty  
n. The anxiety of having to make decisions, typically due to constant state of self-doubt/ability to see pros and cons of every option.

Another morning, another made-up word. Michael really needs to just get himself a better calendar, but who has fucking time for that?  
He groans, covering his face with a pillow. For whatever reason, he just doesn't feel like going to work. Okay, that's a blatant avoidance of the truth. He's a pro at that after all! After another cruel day where he couldn't manage to stay himself, Michael was done, and still is.

His affections for a certain british fool are driving him crazy and hindering any form of work. Still, thinking about doing something to remedy the situation? It just makes him want to hurl.  
With his face still covered, Michael swats around for him phone, missing a few times before he grips the familiar device. He goes to remove the pillow and turn towards the phone, but a misjudgment of location causes him to thud against the floor. "FUCK!" He curses, dropping his phone in the process.

"I fucking hate the fucking world and all the fucking shitty dickweeds that I'm forced to fucking exist with!" His voice is muffled by the floor he's currently facedown against. Michael takes a shaky breath, rolling onto his back before searching once more for his phone. Once SECURELY in his hand, his fingers move quickly, calling Ray.

"Hello?" Ray sounds groggy, probably just woke up.  
"Hey, dude. I, uh..." Michael takes a deep breath, rethinking the entire conversation. He originally planned to have Ray cover for him, but...  
He's his best friend, so maybe confiding in him won't be so bad. "I can trust you, right? Cause, uh, I need some advice..." The brunette takes his sweet ass time replying.  
"Uh, yeah? I mean of course dude. This isn't your way of asking me out, is it?" Michael rolls his eyes, practically able to hear the smirk across the puerto ricans face.

Even at seven in the morning, he's an ass. Can't really ask for a better friend, though.

"Dude, shut up." They both laugh briefly, the ginger clearing his throat as he sits up. Oh yeah, still a pathetic mess on the floor, no big whoop.  
"So, uh, yeah. I...I'm REALLY into someone right now, but it's kinda messing with my fucking head, you know?" He imagines Ray's probably nodding along, not awake enough to realize the ineffectiveness of doing such. Not a big deal, he can just continue talking.  
"And I'm not really sure what to do...I mean, either I suck it up or I tell them."  
"Grow a pair and tell them." Ray says almost immediately. Michael hesitates for a moment, a sick feeling growing in him.

"Ray, I...I don't know if I can do that..." Michael stands up and begins to pace around the room, one hand tangling in his hair. This is a whole new level of anxiety. Is it even remotely possible that he can tell Gavin, straight up: Hey I like you way too much and sometimes I can't breathe around you, but I don't want to pressure you or something, so yeah, time to record!  
That's not how it works and it'll never work like that! "Relax, Michael. I can hear your breathing over the phone." Ray suddenly says, causing the ginger to freeze. Is he really THAT panicked already? Oh fuck, he can already imagine how much of an ass he's going to look like telling Gavin.

Wait.  
Did he just think that as if he is going to FOR SURE confess? Well shit, he is obviously sleep deprived! Yes, that's it for sure. No reason to think crazy right now! Haha! Ha...

Michael bonks his head against the apartment wall, pretty much feeling himself fall apart at the seams. "I'm...I'm fine, okay? Just fucking freaking out don't mind me!" A layer of anger almost overrides the overdose of sarcasm, but not quite. "Jesus, dude. You're really into this person, aren't you?" Michael simply groans in response.  
Ray chuckles, some noise coming from the background of the call. "It's obvious you're really into them, so...and I know you'll hate me for this, YOLO, right?"  
"If I could strangle you through the fucking phone, I would."

Though the idiotic term is annoying, it has meaning here. If he really cares that much for Gavin, why not just tell him? Things can go good! Or...  
Well things can go terribly, horribly wrong...

Michael inhales sharply, leaning forward against the wall, his forearm being used for support. "You're right, Ray. I'll tell them."  
"Cool. I'll be late, thanks to you, so when you get to work, tell Gav I say hi." He promptly hangs up, the ginger's eyes widening and heart dropping.  
Did Ray...? Was he trying to say...? Does Michael make it that obvious?!

After another moment, he chews his lip and decides to let it slide, figuring he should really get to the office.  
He walks into the Achievement Hunter office, feeling relatively secure with himself. Geoff nods his greeting, but passes him, leaving to go do something or other. This leaves just Michael and Gavin in the room, the brit giving a smile.  
"Hello, Michael!" That accent. He's positive he'll never get over that accent. "Morning, Gavin. Can I talk to ya' a sec?" This is it, just go through with the plan, go with the flow. It's all about being calm and not being a panicky little dumbass. "Course!"

He clears his throat, closing the door and leaning against it, watching Gavin's unchanging expression. He's seriously clueless, isn't he? This might be difficult...  
"So, uh...what if a guy admitted that he...had really strong feelings for you?"  
"It'd be flattering, but my being straight and all kinda minges that up, yeah?"

Michael's heart drops. How could he be so stupid that he forgot the most important factor? Fucking Gavin Free, obviously the straightest man in existence! It's just...he never thinks about gender. Romantic attraction overrided the smallest thought of sexual orientation...  
"Oh. Yeah." Gavin seems to linger only a moment before returning to his work. Luckily, it appears the dirty blonde shrugged it off as one of those many odd questions that everyone asks.

Michael slumps down in his chair, trying his hardest to seem apathetic.  
He's probably the biggest dumbass in the entire fucking world. He has no chance now...


	3. Commiserage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter  
> Wheee :'D

Commiserage.

n. Anger directed at those who don't suffer in the same way you do; disdain for people who don't share your problems.

Michael groans, crumpling up the days word and angrily tossing it across the room. He doesn't need that shit first thing in the morning. With reluctancy, he gets out of bed and puts on his glasses. Still can't be bothered with contacts.  
Still can't be bothered caring about anyone right now.

After yesterdays god awful realization, Michael really isn't in the mood to go to work. What's there besides a bunch of assholes (granted they are his friends) and the straight as a dick dumbass who broke him heart? No one...at least worth going to work for. He rubs his eyes and gets ready for the shit day ahead of him. No use trying to stay home, really.

Once at work, Michael instantly regrets getting out of bed, or even waking up for that matter. Gavin's his usual enthusiastic self, completely oblivious to anything and everything. How can someone be THAT excited all the time? The guy seriously can't be human. Then again, maybe all britsh idiots are like that.  
Stupid fucking brain, stop getting off track! What matters right now is the unbridled rage Michael feels towards the entire world.  
Fuck everyone.

Especially, fuck Gavin.  
It's just not fair! Sure, it probably sounds like Michael's having a tantrum, but who can blame him? Everyone else can just enjoy their lives, carefree, and never worry about having NO chance whatsoever! If Gavin wasn't straight, or maybe if one of them was a girl, then this issue wouldn't exist! It's all because Michael's a dude and Gavin's a dude, that he has no chance.  
Why does sexuality have to be a thing?

"Hey buddy, are you alright?" Geoff's constantly cracking voice breaks Michael's thoughts. "Oh, uh..." He rubs his eyes and looks up from his work at his boss. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
"Well alright. You've got a rage quit to record, we're heading out for now." Geoff leaves, ruffling the younger mans hair before heading out of the room.

Michael takes a deep breath, getting ready to record.  
Today's rage quit is better than previous ones, in the sense that he's angrier than usual. All of his frustration about his whole situation is let out while recording. This weeks game isn't even that hard or irritating, but Michael finds a way to die every few seconds and truly scream at the piece of shit.  
"FUCKING FUCK! NO, FUCK THIS! I'M FUCKING DONE!" He pretty much smashes the mouse to stop the recording and leans back in his chair, growling. This whole thing with Gavin is getting out of hand.

"Jesus, Michael! You look positively pissed off!" Gavin notes, opening the Achievement Hunter office door. His smile is small, but he still looks pleased about everything.  
"Shut the fuck up." Michael cringes at himself. That probably sounded a lot more rude than he intended. The brit seems to take it to heart and flinches, looking like he's about to just leave. "Well, sorry! No need to get all minged up about it." His smile grows, trying to make Michael relax.

"Sorry, Gav. You know, post rage quit anger and all." The ginger smiles now, too, swiveling his chair to face his friend. "Seems you had a lot of it built up."  
Michael shrugs in response. "Kinda."  
The blonde nods, sitting in his own chair. "Something bugging you?"  
"You could say that."  
"Well I did. So that's not really a matter of could or could not." They both chuckle at the stupid humor they've come to love. "It's nothing important." Michael assures, waving it off with a hand.  
"It kinda must be, if you're getting that angry about it..." Gavin points out, spinning in his chair, quite happily.

"I'm telling you, it's not important."  
Why would he tell him? That'd mess everything up even worse! It's better if he just shrugs it off and changes the conversation. However, knowing Gavin, he's going to bring it up again and again, til he gets the answer he's looking for.  
"Michael? Are you even listening, you wanker?!" Gavin snaps his fingers, mostly for emphasis. Michael looks up and frowns, realizing he was zoning out again. He really needs to stop doing that. "Shit, sorry. I'm kind of out of it."  
"S'alright..." The brit looks concerned for a moment, but quickly moves on. "Anyways, you coming with us for some bevs tomorrow?" He looks so giddy about it.

"Who's us?"  
"Uhh, me, obviously. Geoff, Burnie, Gus, Jack might come...and uhhh...yeah." His grin is contagious, and Michael can't help saying yes.  
"Sure, sounds cool." He replies simply, scratching his head. Shit, what the fuck is he doing? Yeah, let's just get drunk with Gavin around and risk saying something he'll regret FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE! Sometimes, he's a real idiot.

Ray walks into the room and smiles.  
"Sup. The others we'll be back soon." He says, heading to his desk. Michael mutters something about that being good and returns to his computer, deciding to edit. Today is worse and tomorrow will suck dick.


	4. Guiltroversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK FREAKING FOREVER  
> I'M GOING TO TRY AND FINISH THIS RIGHT NOW  
> TWO CHAPTERS AND TWO THOUSAND WORDS  
> THAT'S ALL  
> WHOO

Guiltroversion.

n. The guilt from wanting to see no one and do nothing, to want to be completely alone and feel all your feelings; esp. when you don't have the energy to explain to another person.

Michael knocks the calendar off his nightstand and lays back down, eyes barely open. He's exhausted to say the least. Everything has been building up, placing a heavy weight upon his shoulders and trying to force him down. Why the fuck, out of everyone in the world, did HE have to be cursed like this? There is really no way that he's supposed to feel like this naturally. No, there must be an outside force brewing up this shit storm, getting its shits and giggles from the torture of him.

Okay, now he sounds fucking batshit.  
Michael forces himself out of bed, following his usual routine before once again, dragging his ass to the office. Of course, who else can he be greeted by other than Gavin Fucking Free.  
"Michael!" He cheers, grinning up at the ginger. He waves lazily in response, collapsing in his chair. "You look tired, lad. Will you be alright for drinks tonight?" Gavin asks, slight concern filling his expression.  
"I dunno..." Michael shrugs resting the side of his face on his shoulder.

The way Gavin's entire body shrinks down breaks Michael's heart. He doesn't want to disappoint him, but...  
There's just so much room to fuck up. Every bone in his body continues to lock up and his mind shouts at him to just go home and cry in the corner. Which is pathetic.  
And completely possible.  
A little more than possible.

"Oh..." Gavin mutters, turning to his work with sunken shoulders. Michael watches for a second, a sudden burst of guilt washing over him. Then he's hurridely walking towards the bathroom, shoving open the door and immediately hovering over the toilet. He pukes, feeling all the pain and guilt leave him and wash down the drain.  
He shudders and shakes like a leaf, knees hitting the tile with an audible sound. Michael's head spins around with thoughts and feelings he can't properly comprehend, until it focuses on Gavin's face. The way he always looks so disappointed in Michael, as he should. There's no reason he shouldn't be disappointed...

Michael pukes again.

After a few moments of catching his breath, the ginger flushes the toilet. Is he seriously getting SICK over this? Is this really affecting him so much that every part of him is slowly weakening? Why is getting so bad so fast!  
Michael shakily gets up, using his arm against the wall to stay stable. The room is still wobbily, but he manages to get to the sink and washes his face a few times. Reaching for the towel, he pulls his head up and looks at his reflection. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Michael angrily spits at himself, right hand clenching into a fist.

There's a knock at the door and Michael straightens up. "Yeah?" He calls out, setting the towel down on the counter. Ray opens the door hesitantly, frowning at his friend. "Dude, what happened? Heard you ducked it out of the office..." The brunette explains, leaning against the door frame.  
"Nothing. 'M fine." It's obviously a lie, but who the fuck wants to hear about his teen girlish feelings?

They aren't normal. He's not normal.  
Everything about the entire situation is all his fault and so fucked up. Why can't he get rid of the guilt he's feeling? He just doesn't want anything to do with anyone.

Ray gives him a knowing look, closing the door behind him as he takes a few steps into the bathroom.  
"Michael, I'm not fucking oblivious...ever since you called me that morning, you've only gotten worse about...Gavin..." The last part is whispered so no one can overhear. Michael flinches, still staring at his reflection.  
"Guess I DID make it that obvious..." He bitterly mumbles, sighing shortly after. Ray shrugs and steps closer, now leaning his side against the bathroom counter.

"Did you try and tell him?"  
"Fuck no..."  
Michael inhales sharply, finally looking up at Ray. "I mean, I kinda did, but the fucker...he's fucking straight! And that...doesn't really help. I can't change him, that's not right. So now if I do fucking tell him, shit will just get awkward as hell!" His fingers thread themselves in his curls and he shuts his eyes, trying to relax. It's not very successful considering he's on the verge of a panic attack or something.  
Infact, puking again sounds nice!

"Michael...I'm going to tell you something right now. Listen." Ray looks stern, a single hand on Michael's shoulder. "You're going to fucking tell him, and that's finally. You NEVER know! I've seen you with Gavin, I mean hell, so have the fans...that's something more than platonic..." He smiles briefly, seeing a spark of hope in Michael's eyes.  
"Whether or not Gavin sees it...you do, so make the first move!"  
As much as Michael still wants to fight it, he feels a bit better. "I hope you're right, Ray."  
"So do I, man. Let's get back to the office, though...we have work you know."

As Michael steps into the office, Gavin looks up, smiling. "Glad to see you're okay!"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. By the way, totally coming to the bar tonight!"

Gavin's grin is beautiful.


	5. Sherplex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY  
> I'm so sorry for the wait ;-;
> 
> Here's the ending, though :D

There is no word to be read, because it's still the same fucking day, so yeah.  
It being the same day, it's now nighttime, specifically, or not so specifically, around seven at night. Michael's at the bar with some of the guys at Rooster Teeth, casually drinking and talking with them. Over all he's feeling a lot better after talking with Ray, even with Gavin right next to him, every once in awhile their arms brushing together. It's weird how calming and relaxing it is just being there with him. Considering the week he's been havin, this is nice.

The night continues to drag on, people leaving one by one; Burnie and Gus first because of an early flight in the morning, Geoff soon after because Griffon needs him, and finally Jack and Joel leave to play some games.  
This leaves Gavin and Michael alone, definitely tipsy, but not drunk.  
Well, Michael's not drunk, but Gavin...eh, he seems okay.

He's not off trying to flirt with anyone, so that's a good sign.  
Gavin bounces his knee and smiling contently at his drink. Michael watches him closely, but tries to tear his eyes away. "This is Barbara's favorite drink, ya know? Can't understand why..." The Brit chuckles lightly, spinning the drink in his hand. With a very quiet sigh, Michael glances away at the mention of Barbara. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise him if Gavin was into her. Those two are close and she's beautiful, no doubt.

"Hey, Gav? Are you...into Barbara?" He figures asking can't hurt that much. Right?  
"What?!" Gavin's now laughing, probably a bit too hard, really, but that's the booze talking. After he gets a hold of himself and flicks the tears from his eyes, Gavin explains.  
"She's top and all, but I doubt she'd want to date me...and I'm into someone else." He smiles cheerfully, staring straight at the slightly dumbfounded Michael. "Oh..." He mutters, glancing off to the side once again.

This is it, the perfect moment. That is, if he manages to NOT fuck it up. Even with all the nervousness clogging his mind, the words of Ray echo: "YOLO"

Okay, fuck off words of Ray.  
Jesus Christ...

"Hey, Gav?" His chest tightens and the words barely make it out. "Hm?" The Brit hums quietly, looking up from his ever so interesting drink. "This is probably going to sound fucking stupid..." Michael starts, shoulders tensing and eyes narrowing. He still can't make himself look at Gavin, but there's no way he's stopping now.  
"Okay, uh...well...fuck, how do I start? Okay! Gavin, we've known eachother a really long time...wow, I sound like a tool..." Michael groans and bangs his head against the back of the booth.

"Fuck it, I'm going for it! Gavin, you're a god damn idiot, but I think I might love you and it's fucking stupid, because you obviously don't give a romantic shit about me! I don't blame you, I just want you to know!" Everything is said quickly and with a hint of anger, but what follows is silence.

Gavin sits there, looking clearly shocked with his wide eyes and slightly open mouth. Michael almost thinks he's scared him, until the blonde slowly leans forward and kisses him on the cheek, soft and gently. "I love you, too..." He whispers before sitting back down.  
The two smile at eachother for a little bit, enjoying the stir of butterflies in their stomachs.

When later that evening, Michael drops Gavin off, the Brit kisses his gently again and giddily hops out of the car, fumbling with his keys before getting inside the house. Michael chuckles to himself, because what a fucking idiot.  
He then drives home, gets himself upstairs, walks into his bedroom, and glances at the time. Past midnight. Taking a few small steps, he squints in the dark and bends down to pick up the Word of the Day calendar.

Sherplex

v. to unnecessarily complicate a simple situation; to obscure the answer to an otherwise easily solvable problem

Michael chuckles quietly, setting it on the nightstand and collapsing into his bed. Funny, how things work out.


End file.
